“Of course not,” he muttered quietly.
“Then I suggest that you return to your duties and organize the defenses of the abbey so that we are not left only to the grace of the Goddess to survive this.”
“Yes, your highness,” he mumbled as he hurried off, back the way he had come.
Lauren watched him go before turning to Vincent.
“You know, it would have been easy to accept his offer,” she said. There was a tone in her voice that sounded almost like respect. “A lesser man would have run. What made you decide to stay?”
“There are too many people here that are counting on me. What would it say to them if I left? I couldn’t do that to them, especially the children. Besides, if I ran now it would just make it easier for me run in the future.”
“Well,” she replied, trying to hide a smile, “it seems that Jason was right about you after all.” She walked off across the cloister. Vincent thought there was almost a bounce to her step, but he was sure he was just imagining it.
He turned to start walking back to the dormitories, but he stopped short. There was a strange agitation to the air. He couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but something was different. A trumpet sounded from the front of the abbey just as a guard from the wall pushed through the crowd.
“Master Alexander,” the guard said breathlessly. For some reason the knights had taken to calling him ‘Master’ even though he did not hold a formal position. Despite his efforts to stop them, they had continued. Even a few Rangers had taken to using the title when they talked to him, and Master Auna seemed to be encouraging it. Vincent just sighed as the man continued. “Master Lowe wishes for you to come immediately to the wall,” the man said, tripping over the words as he rushed to get them out.
“Curse you Trent,” Vincent thought as he walked through the early morning light toward the front of the abbey. It had to be something to do with this strange feeling that had fallen over the abbey, he knew it.
As Vincent left the Entry Hall of the abbey, he knew there was something wrong, as every Knight, Ranger, and Valkyrie was standing near the wall, crowding onto the stairs and battlements to see over the top.
Trent was standing on the wall, right above the gate. Lauren was not far from him, a look of worry on her face.
Vincent started to push his way through the crowd of people. As the knights realized who was trying to push through they quickly made way.
“How may I be of service, Master Lowe?” Vincent threw in the ceremonial title to show his displeasure at the situation.
“Vincent,” Trent said, sounding relieved, “the barrier has fallen and the Eresians are marching against us. They will be here within the hour.”
Lauren edged her way to his side. Suddenly the air felt heavy. He looked northward up the road to where the Eresian would be coming. The sun had barely peaked over the horizon, yet not a bird sang in the trees. The forest around the abbey was still, as if in anticipation of what was about to happen.
Vincent could hear the footsteps of the approaching army. They were coming, just around the bend in the road. Not a man in the abbey dared make a sound as they waited. The sound of the thundering footsteps was growing steadily louder.
It was almost a relief to Vincent when the Eresians finally rounded the bend. Yet he could feel the anxiety of the men around him as they saw what they faced.
Minotaurs, gnolls, trolls, and ogres, along with other monstrous creatures; all heavily armoured, appeared around the bend. Like Vincent months before, most of these men had thought these creatures to be things of legend. Now they were faced with them in what could be their final moments.
Vincent could make out two distinct figures marching at the head of the army. One wore the distinctive cloak of a Magi; the other wore the uniform of an Eresian officer.
Almost instinctively, Vincent pulled his mask from the pocket in his cloak and tied it to his face. Most of the other Rangers were doing the same. Vincent noticed that Trent’s mask was now silver, as he took his place as Master Ranger.
“I see you’ve finally accepted your role,” Lauren said just loud enough for Vincent to hear. “It suits you.”
“What are you talking about?” Vincent asked, confused.
“You are now the Guardian, and you are acting accordingly.”
Vincent was stunned. He wasn’t the Guardian. The ranking Pallàdrim was Master Auna.
“How can I be the Guardian?” Vincent asked disdainfully, “I’m not even a Pallàdrim yet.”
“Master Auna may be the ranking Pallàdrim, but that is only until you awaken, and he believes that that will happen sooner rather than later. Besides, you have already accepted the role. You are wearing the Mask of the Guardian.”
Vincent put his hands to his face. The mask he was wearing was much smoother than his normal one, and had a distinctly metallic feel.
He removed it just enough to look at it. To his surprise he could see his reflection in the polished surface of the golden mask. He didn’t remember putting the mask in his pocket, in fact, he distinctly remembered putting his white mask in his cloak that morning. So how had the golden mask ended up in his hand?
He didn’t have time to contemplate that mystery as the Eresians were almost at the gate. He quickly tied the mask to his face again, just as the Eresians came to a halt.
The Magi and the officer stepped forward. The officer removed his helmet, shaking his red hair as he did. Vincent’s stomach sank as he recognized his old friend once again at the head of an army meant to destroy the followers of Sandora.
“People of the Order of the Golden Sword: Followers of Sandora,” Thomas called with a voice much more forceful than Vincent would have thought possible, “the Great Eresian Empire demands that you hand over the rebels Vincent Alexander and Jerome Auna to be tried for charges of treason against the Emperor in attempting to resurrect the ancient order of the Pallàdrim. His Excellency recognizes that this was the isolated actions of only a few, and will therefore pardon all others if the rebels are handed over without complaint. However, if you do not comply he will consider you all as co-conspirators and you will therefore be exterminated.”
There was an uncomfortable stir among the knights on the wall. Vincent turned to look at them as they in turn looked at him.
“If you men so desire, I will hand myself over to the Eresians in order to save you,” Vincent called out to the men gathered in the grounds below him.
There was silence. None dared speak.
“If you go, then so do I,” a voice called from the back. Vincent recognized it as David’s.
He smiled to himself as more voices joined in. He recognized only a few of those calling for him to stay, but he could feel his heart swelling inside him at the support.
Vincent turned to Trent. He couldn’t see Trent’s face, but he could tell that he was smiling.
“It would seem that the men have spoken, Vincent.” Trent said before turning to address Thomas. “We, the people of Sandora, would rather die than give the Chosen of Sandora into the hands of the Magi!”
“Then you have chosen death,” Thomas called angrily.
“Thomas,” Vincent called from the wall, removing his mask, “you don’t have to do this.”
“How dare you speak to me,” Thomas spat back. “After allowing me to believe you were dead while you worked with these traitors to the Empire. I expected better from you.”
“Look around you Thomas. You’re leading an army of creatures of the abyss. These are the same creatures that you once used to scare the children. Think of what the Magi are doing to you.”
“The Magi use diverse means, but they seek only the good of the Empire. They do not withhold their powers from others,” Thomas sneered. In a flash of movement Thomas jumped, kicked off of the gate building and grabbed the edge of the palisade. He threw himself upward, landing on the top of the wall in front of Vincent. “They saw the potential in me and didn’t try to hold me back.” With a siniste
r smile he jumped back down from the wall.
“Thomas, the Magi are using you, they’re using the Empire. They don’t care about you or the Empire,” Vincent tried to explain. “All they care about is destroying the Order. Once they’ve met their goal they will cast the Empire aside.”
“Lies,” Thomas bellowed. “The Magi have made the Empire stronger than ever. They have helped me reach my true potential.” The yellow glow appeared around Thomas’s hands as he glared up at Vincent. “None can stand in my way now.”
Vincent embraced his token as he looked back, allowing Furtivos to flow through him.
Suddenly lightning flashed. It arched in slow motion as Vincent watched, striking at the men on the wall. He moved directly to the spot where the lightning was going to strike, forming fire in his hands as he went.
He reached up and grabbed the lighting as it landed, pulling it into himself through his token. He had been told many times that this was possible, but he had never actually thought he would need to use this skill. The lighting flowed through him and seemed to evaporate as it reached his token. His skin tingled.
He looked back down at Thomas in distain. Thomas just glared back angrily.
“Now we will end this,” a deep voice said from under the hood of the Magi. “General, I believe that we have been more than fair with these people. Step back and allow the army to do its work.”
“No,” Thomas replied, “Vincent is mine.”
“As you wish,” the Magi replied nonchalantly, “just so long as you don’t get between me and the Dome.”
Thomas nodded, but said nothing. Raising his sword he called the army to attention.
“Leave none alive.”
The army of men and beasts rushed forward around him, crashing into the gates. From somewhere back in the ranks they produced a battering ram, carried by several large ogres, and started beating against the gates.
The knights on the wall didn’t hesitate to string their bows and start raining arrows down on the forces below. Lauren was at the front, sending two arrows for every one of the knights around her. Vincent retied his mask and forced his way back down the stairs. He took a spot at the front of the men at the gates.
With each blast from the battering ram the gates gave out a little more. Men were throwing themselves against the gate to try and hold them closed, but it did little to help as the wood started to splinter and crack.
Finally, with a roaring boom, the gates came crashing down.
The six ogres that had been wielding the monstrous battering ram were the first through the broken gates. They were followed by a wave of minotaurs and gnolls, with the occasional man in the mix. The men seemed more frightened of the creatures that were fighting with them, than the men they were fighting against.
Vincent let out a yell as he charged at the coming hoard of creatures. Embracing his token he created fire and wrapped it around his blades. As he met the first creature he swung his blades. The blue flames wrapping the swords cut easily through the armour of the unfortunate beast, felling it instantly.
The knights behind him seemed impressed by this show of force and embraced their own tokens, manipulating the elements around them to wrap their weapons. Several claps of thunder and blinding flashes resulted in large groups of dead minotaurs.
Vincent was soon lost in the flow of the battle. Everywhere he turned he met a monster which he quickly cut down. He was losing count of how many he had killed, but they kept coming. For every minotaur that fell it seemed like three rushed through the gates to take their place.
The beasts soon learned that attacking Vincent meant certain death and they started avoiding him. Vincent took advantage of this momentary lull to assess the battlefield. Lauren was still on the wall launching arrows down into the flood of creatures below. She was now using short periods of Furtivos to send quick bursts of arrows at once. The bowstring hardly had time to snap before another arrow was notched and sent flying.
Trent on the other hand was not having such an easy time of things. He, too, had left the wall and was now fighting two trolls on his own as he tried to fend off the occasional gnoll that tried to jab at him as it ran past. Vincent quickly sent a bolt of fire rocketing at one of the trolls. The blue flames shot cleanly through the creature, sending it crashing to the ground.
Trent smiled and he dropped his mace, drawing his dagger. The blade suddenly turned a deep black. It seemed to be eating the light around it. He swiped at the troll, just barely scratching its skin. The beast roared in pain then stopped abruptly. The scratch had turned black and was spreading rapidly. The troll started shaking violently before it fell to the ground, where it lay motionless.
Vincent shuddered as he went back to his battle, cutting down anything that got in his path. Then there was nothing. Vincent looked around. The flow of creatures had stopped.
He turned toward the broken gates. He gritted his teeth as he saw the Magi and Thomas walk through.
With a yell Vincent charged at the pair. He could barely see a smile peek from below the hood of the Magi’s cloak. The Magi met him, blade drawn, and they clashed in a shower of sparks.
“Stop!” Thomas commanded from behind. “Vincent is mine.”
The Magi paused as he looked behind to where Thomas stood, sword in hand.
“Seems we have been interrupted,” the Magi purred. “You are fortunate.” The Magi threw himself into the air, jumping over Vincent’s head and running for the abbey doors. Vincent started to go after him.
“Don’t run from me, coward,” Thomas called.
Vincent stopped and turned, glaring at the man who he had once considered his closest friend.
“You call me a coward?” Vincent shouted back as he approached Thomas. “I could have run, left these people to the death that you now bring, but I stayed, facing almost certain death. You dare call me a coward? Look around you. Look at what you have resorted to. The creatures you once vowed to destroy are now being used as a weapon. Why? Because you were afraid to fight us on even ground, even with your superior numbers.”
“I will not hear you slander the Empire,” Thomas spat back, throwing himself at Vincent, moving with furtivos-like speed.
Vincent allowed his token to flow through him as he met Thomas, blade striking blade. For a moment, it felt to Vincent as though he were back in the academy sparring with his friend as their forms meshed perfectly between the two. Then reality hit, one of them would make a mistake sooner or later and that one would not survive.
Steeling himself, Vincent pressed on, allowing the forms of the Pallàdrim to slip into his movements. Thomas was looking less confident by the minute as more of the Pallàdrim forms met his blades.
Holes were appearing in Thomas’s defense. Each of these Vincent could have exploited and ended the battle, but something stayed his hand. Finally, the holes were so great that Vincent could not ignore them. Vincent shot his blade forward, striking what would be a killing blow; but he couldn’t do it. His friend had betrayed the Order, but it was his fault. Vincent couldn’t help but feel guilty for the state that his friend now found himself in.
With a frustrated cry Vincent pulled his blade just before it struck Thomas in the heart, changing its course and taking Thomas’s right hand.
Thomas dropped to his knees, clutching the severed stump of his hand. He looked up at Vincent, rage in his eyes.
“More secrets,” Thomas muttered. “How long do you intend on withholding those forms from the rest of us?”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Vincent replied angrily. “These forms are not withheld. They are signs of the Pallàdrim. They mark me for what I am, that is why the Magi want me so bad. I am a threat to them. Our rebellion is not against the Empire, but against the Magi who seek to destroy us.”
“Your words mean nothing to me,” Thomas muttered bitterly. “Now hurry and put an end to this. Give me an honourable death.”
“No,” Vincent replied, “I will not end your life. I wan
t you to live to seek redemption for what you have done.”
“Fool!” Thomas spat back. “I do not want your pity. As long as I draw breath, I will hunt you and the Order until you have all been destroyed. I will not rest until the Empire is freed of the blight you have caused.”
“One day, you will see that I was right. It will be the day that the Magi abandon you and the Empire. I just hope that I live to see that day. Now go, get out of my sight.”
Vincent shot a kick at his beaten foe, sending him stumbling toward the gates as more minotaurs continued to pour in. Thomas was soon lost in the hoard.
Vincent didn’t have time to watch his former friend go. The abbey was quickly being overrun. The roar of the minotaurs, accompanied by the barks of the gnolls, and the grunts of the ogres and trolls was almost deafening.
There were too many to engage with his weapons alone. Vincent quickly sheathed one of his swords and formed a ball of fire in his hand. He quickly started throwing fire at as many creatures as he could. This was far more draining than using the swords, and Vincent could feel himself tiring.
Suddenly, a roar broke above the din. It definitely didn’t belong the any of the creatures Vincent was fighting. He glanced to the sky as a shadow passed over him. Kai, in the massive form of a dragon, rocketed to the ground and started to tear into the attacking masses.
“Vincent,” Kai growled in the booming voice that his dragon form allowed, “the Magi has reached the inner cloister. You must go quickly. I’ll take care of things out here.”
Vincent quickly surveyed the battlefield, looking for Lauren. She was still on top of the wall, sending arrows down at the forces outside. Several ladders had been put up against the walls, and the knights were scurrying to knock them back. The flow of monsters through the gate seemed to be slowing.
Just as Vincent was about to try to fight his way to the wall to get Lauren, she glanced back at him. At a nod from Vincent, she embraced her token and jumped from the wall, using furtivos to land safely and weave her way to Vincent’s side.
“We need to move,” Vincent said as soon as she reached him. “The Magi is heading for the cloister. We need to stop him before he reaches the Dome.”
The Ranger (Book 1) Page 30
